1, 2, 1000, 10000 Grandmothers
Tues., 2/13/2024
This post has nothing to do with Mardi Gras, Ash Wednesday, or Valentine’s Day. It is mostly inspired by a song I began to learn last night, and by another song that reminded me of, and then by grandmothers.
I was lucky enough to have my grandmothers in my life until I was 12 and 16. Here they are: First, my mother’s mother and father (I’m the baby in my mother’s arms, and my older brother). They lived close enough that I could walk to their house. She didn’t drive so my mom drove her to town to get groceries, and she was always a soft touch if you wanted to add a little treat to her grocery cart. Her family were Oklahoma Sooners and she got married later in life, having spent much of her life caring for younger siblings and a nephew after her mom died. My mom acknowledges being a spoiled only child. Grandmother got dementia after my grandfather died and became crankier. I do remember her yelling at me when I climbed the cherry tree to eat some—I think because she thought they weren’t ripe enough to eat.
Below is my father’s mother and father. My grandma’s story of making it as a single mother on the Colorado frontier by serving as a fire watch in the mountains has been one of those stories about resilience and perseverance that have informed me. She met my grandpa after that winter when she was working as a washerwoman. She was not afraid of work. She was also not the cuddly grandmother.
This is my daughter making biscuits with her grandmother, my mom, aka Meemaw.
Did you know that in the Bible the word grandmother is only found one time in most English translations (thus the 1 grandmother)?
2 Timothy 1:5
I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.
But the song I learned last night at Heart Songs had
10,000 grandmothers:
It’s based on the poem:
“Summons” by Aurora Levins Morales
Last night I dreamed
ten thousand grandmothers
from the twelve hundred corners of the earth
walked out into the gap
one breath deep
between the bullet and the flesh
between the bomb and the family.
They told me we cannot wait for
governments.
There are no peacekeepers boarding planes.
There are no leaders who dare to say
every life is precious, so it will have to be us.
They said we will cup our hands around each
heart.
We will sing the earth’s song, the song of
water,
a song so beautiful that vengeance will turn
to weeping.
The mourners will embrace, and grief replace
every impulse toward harm.
Ten thousand is not enough, they said,
so, we have sent this dream, like a flock of
doves
into the sleep of the world. Wake up. Put on
your shoes.
You who are reading this, I am bringing
bandages
and a bag of scented guavas from my trees. I
think
I remember the tune. Meet me at the corner.
Let’s go.
That song reminded me of 1000 Grandmothers by Holly Near
Send in a thousand grandmothers
They will surely volunteer
With their ancient wisdom flowing
They will lend a loving ear x2
First they'll form a loving circle
Around the wounded wing
Then contain the brutal beasts of war
Sweet freedom songs they'll sing x2
A lullaby much stronger
Than bombs and threats to kill
A force unlike we've ever seen
Will break the murder's will x2
To the prisons we'll invite them
The most violent men will weep
When a 1000 women hold them strong
And pray their souls to keep x2
Let them rock the few who steal the most
And rule with youthful charms
So they'll see the damage that they do
And will fall into grandma's arms
2000 loving arms
If you think these women are too soft
To face the world at hand
Then you've never known the power of love
And you fail to understand
An old woman holds a powerful force
When she no longer needs to please
She can cut your shallow life to bits
And bring you to your knees
We best get down on our knees
And pray for a thousand grandmothers
Will you please come volunteer
No longer tucked deep out of sight
Will you bring your power here
Will you bring your power here
Reflection Question:
What have we learned from our grandmothers and how can grandmothers make a difference?
I’d be curious to hear your response, either as a grandmother or about your own grandmothers.
I have been blessed by grandmothers and great-grandmothers whose presence I still feel even though I am almost seventy years old and those ancestors have left their earthly bodies many decades ago. I always knew/know that they had/have my back. I sense that my own death will be made more gentle by the hope of their welcome.